I had thought that television could get no more banal or insipid, that
it could not insult the intelligence of its viewers any more
egregiously. I was wrong. I failed to account for the efforts of our
favorite people, the nannies. Over the past several months, the
airwaves have become indundated with public service announcements
"educating" us on all facets of life. The latest crop shows us an
encounter group type of setting, in which a man addresses the effigy
of a young boy. "I'm proud of you son, you did well on that test," he
intones. Cut to an actor wearing the doe-eyed visage of the typical
"sensitive" twit. He begins clapping, clearly overcome with pride in
his charge. The rest of the group follows suit, and our hero's eyes
moisten with pride. We are left with an imprecation to talk to our
children, or some such twaddle.

I have a question: just who in the hell do these people think they
are? What gives them the idea that the rest of the world needs them to
provide guidance on child-rearing? What gives them the right to imply
that people will not talk to their children unless they are prompted
to do so by smug, smarmy nitwits? Just where in the hell do these
putrid, pusillanimous, pedantic and presumptuous poltroons get off?
And do they really think that poor parenting can be undone by a
thirty-second television ad?

The ads, I believe, reveal something significant about their creators,
and about the attitudes that have us hurtling headlong into a tyranny
of self-righteous, touchy-feely twits, of Mary Poppinses in jackboots.
Human beings are stupid, the rationale goes, and without the guidance
of the more enlightened - guidance expressed through condescension and
haranguing - all would be lost. They self-appointed saviors of the
culture have absolute proof of their goodness: they are sensitive, and
they care about things. They care so much that they must be given the
reigns of legislative authority, so that they can lead society to
utopia.

If these people were confined to making self-serving PSAs, they would
be relatively harmless. They are not, however, satisfied to annoy
millions of Americans. One can picture them quoting Hank Reardon's
inquisitors, "We're after power, and me mean it." Although the nannies
are not monolithic, their goals are remarkably consistent. First, they
destroy the evil tobacco peddlers. Next, the fast food joints must be
exterminated. Finally, when a state-trained nurturing professional is
installed in every home to screen for appropriate child-rearing
behavior, nirvana will exist right here on earth!

If there are any doubts about what sort of a threat this attitude
presents, or that the threat is real, consider last Tuesday. Another
state has chosen to forbid smoking in public establishments, two
ballot initiatives to decriminalize cannabis, and a Constitutional
Amendment allowing juries to refuse to enforce absurd laws was
defeated. All of these elections demonstrate that the idea that people
cannot be trusted to look after their own well-being is still held by
at least fifty-one percent of the population.

As a libertarian, I object on principle to the initiation of force. In
this case of the perpetrators of these ads, and of all the other self-
appointed nannies, I am willing to make an exception. These people
must be rounded up, and interred somewhere where they may pester only
each other. This is not, however, enough. There must be justice.
Vengeance must be had. Every day, they should be strapped one by one
into chairs resembling the one in
A Clockwork Orange, and subjected,
for at least four hours, to the ministrations of Barney the dinosaur.